


To Each Their Own

by TheDeathEcchi



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Comedy, Drama, F/F, F/M, Gen, Humor, M/M, Multi, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-01-31 10:44:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12680295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDeathEcchi/pseuds/TheDeathEcchi
Summary: A collection of drabbles featuring our favorite soldiers, scientists, and oddities. Mature chapters involved. Meihem is a central focus.





	1. A Meihem High School AU

Mei-Ling Zhou was the pride of Overwatch Academy. Studious, polite, sensible, helpful, and loved by all. With a smile that could light up a room and a pleasant demeanor that could soon even the most savage beast, truly she was the academy's shining star. Student council president, chair of the science, chess, and math clubs, and one of the top athletics students, it seemed there was nothing she wasn't capable of.

Yet for every light, there is a darkness.

Jamison Fawkes, known as "Junkrat" by the student body, was a delinquent, pure and simple. When not starting fights with teachers and students alike, he was in metal shop or chem lab, fashioning weapons of mayhem or explosive concoctions that could level a building--and had a few times. He was crass, boisterous, and was given a wide berth when he appeared; out of fear rather than respect. In fact, the only person who seemed to tolerate him was his equally scary friend, Mako "Roadhog" Rutledge, a hulk of a student who rarely said a word, merely breathing heavily behind a pig-themed masked that a foolish faculty member asked him to remove once.

_Once._

They were the deadliest pair in school, and many times they'd crossed, and try as Mei might, she could never get the two of them to clean up their act. But Mei-Ling Zhou didn't become the top student at the academy by giving up easy. And if there was anything she liked, it was a challenge.

-/-/-/-/-

He was recognizable a mile away; tattered leather jacket (against school rules) hanging loosely from his lanky frame, shock of wild blonde hair, and, Mei noticed with a shocked look, his tie was undone! It wasn't even lunchtime and he had already ruled her up.

"Jamison Fawkes!" Mei snapped, stomping over to the troublemaker.

"Oi, oi!" he greeted with his signature toothy grin. He nudged Roadhog, who remained silent and impassive as always. "It's Lil' Miss Prezzie, come ta grace us wif 'er presence! If ah'd known she wanted an audience with us humble folk, why, ah'd've tucked in me shirt!"

Mei balled her hands at her sides, staring up at the delinquent with a point. "I'm in no mood for your games today, Mr. Fawkes! You are in violation of at least ten school statutes with your dress alone!"

Junkrat frowned. "Hey, ah ain't wearing no dress!"

"Your clothes." Roadhog clarified with a rumbling rasp.

"For once, he's right. That jacket is not allowed--not to mention filthy--your shoes are mismatched, and there is to be no neck jewelry of any kind. And speaking of neck..."

To Junkrat's great surprise, Mei grabbed the loose end of his tie and yanked him down so their faces were nearly touching, and he could see the chocolate brown of her eyes.

"Can't even be expected to fix this..." she sighed as she began fixing his tie. "Honestly, what goes through your head sometimes?"

"Smokin' tits."

Mei froze, looking up at the smirking blonde. "What...did you just say?"

Junkrat grinned and gestured down to Mei, finger explicitly pointing at her chest. "Got a good view of yer goods, sheila. A rack loike that? Wooly-dooly; it'd drive a bloke cra--"

His words were cut off as Mei, face flaming red, tightened the tie a bit too tight, sending Junkrat into a coughing fit. "YOU ARE IMPOSSIBLE!" she shouted, scurrying off somewhere as Junkrat doubled over in pain.

When he finally righted himself, he stared at the retreating form of Mei, eyes locked into her, backside and skirt as they swayed. "Oh, yeah." he smirked, leaning against his friend. "Yeah, she digs me."

"...Idiot."


	2. Unreal Tournament

Jack shouldered his pulse rifle as he made his way back from the training grounds. His aim had been perfect, his reflexes as catlike as ever, and was overall in top form. 10/10, according to Athena. He'd been heading back to his quarters when he first heard the voices.

"Y'know what?" He paused as he recognized the voice of Hana. A slurping sound followed, and he assumed she was drinking something. Probably one of those 'slurpees' or whatever the kids called them. He never saw the point of what basically amounted to ice and flavoring, much less putting it into a giant cup. "Morrison? He could totally get it."

Jack nearly dropped his weapon. He'd been out of the game for a while, but he certainly knew what those words meant.

"Seriously? The soldier?" The second voice he recognized as the DJ, Lúcio. A chuckle escaped his lips. "He's old enough to be your dad!"

The was a brief moment of silence, followed by another bought of slurping. "I sure wouldn't mind calling him 'daddy'." 

"Oh, Hana, you can't be real."

"Grass on the field, Lúcio."

This time Jack did drop his weapon. 

The duo rushed out from behind their corner, light gun and sonic amplifier at the ready. Two pairs of eyes widened as they saw who it was. "Oh..." Lúcio spoke nervously as he holstered his weapon. "Hey, Jack."

"It's 76." the old soldier croaked. 

Hana, meanwhile, seemed to have suffered a simultaneous loss of both motor skills and language processing. Her face was red enough to light up the hallway, and her hands shook as she gripped her weapon. 

"How much did you hear?" asked the DJ.

The was a moment of silence. "Everything."


	3. Three Eyes Between The Two of Them

It had been a slow sort of week for the reformed crew. No missions, assassination attempts, or otherwise pressing matters had left the group in a bit of a funk. That was when Lena, in her infinite, folksy wisdom, had suggested a team-building exercise. Winston, ever eager to promote unity amongst the squad, has immediately approved.

He might've given it a second thought of he knew the pilot's idea of team-building was getting them all to reveal embarrassing secrets...

Across from them, Ana chuckled as she recounted the memory. "It was adorable. This scruffy little urchin in boots too small and a hat too big swaggers up to me, and says," She cleared her throat and adopted a barely-passable imitation of a young Jesse McCree. "'Don't think ah've seen you 'round these parts, darlin'. How's about you'n me get a bit more acquainted?'"

Laughter erupted from the table again, and the cowboy buried his face in his hands, wishing there was a hole he could crawl into. 

"I think the clincher was when Fareeha shouted from behind him 'Are you hitting on my mom!? Gross!' and kicked him in the leg." Next to her, Fareeha grimaced. "Just think, dear. Had you not intervened, you might very well have Jesse as a stepfather."

"The thought sickens me." was her reply.

"He certainly was very charming, in his own special way. Why, had I been a few years younger at the time...or he a few years older..."

Sighing in disgust, Fareeha stood and left the table. "I'm going to the bathroom. Hopefully I'll find some bleach to help me forget the last few minutes of this conversation."

"I didn't know it was yer mama!" McCree shouted at her back as she left.

"Because you got her confused with the other Egyptian snipers on the base!?" was Fareeha's indignant reply. 

Damn. He didn't have a comeback for that.


	4. Drop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bunnyribbit Prom AU

_Tuxedo? Check. Corsage? Check. Clean joke that lets me know I'm humorous and approachable? Check._

Lúcio ran through his checklist for maybe the thirtieth time as he pulled up to Hana's house, tugging at the collar of his suit. Formal wear wasn't his forte, but prom called for it. As he pulled up, however, his eyes were drawn to a sight that made his blood run cold.

An old man sat on a rocking chair on the porch of Hana's house. He was casually dressed, in a simple t-shirt and jeans that showed off a surprising amount of muscle tone for someone his age. His gaze was fixed in Lúcio's direction, as if he had been waiting for him. 

And what had made him consider slamming in reverse and apologizing profusely to Hana the next day, was the 10-gauge shotgun resting in his lap.

Swallowing thickly, Lúcio got out of the car, corsage held in shaky hands.

"Uh...h-hi!" he greeted with a terrified smile. "You must be Hana's dad."

"I must be." replied the elder in a gravely voice. "You must be Hana's date."

"I must be, heh--"

"Stand up straight, soldier!"

Taken aback by the sudden command, Lúcio could only stutter in surprise. "I-I wha?"

"I said 'stand up straight!'" repeated Hana's father, leaping to his feet. Lúcio squeaked as he stared up at him; he seemed so much smaller in the chair. "You got taffy in your ears!?"

"N-No!"

Cupping a hand to his ear, he leaned in close to the dark-skinned boy. "No, _what_?"

"No...sir?"

"Are you asking or telling me, maggot!? Drop and give me ten, on the double!"

As perplexed as he was terrified, Lúcio wasn't about to argue with a man who looked like he could (and probably would) snap him like a twig. Dropping to the porch floor, he began push ups. 

"Count off, maggot!"

"O-One, sir! Two, sir! Three, sir!"

After he finished, he was grabbed by the collar and hoisted up, the old man glaring hard into his eyes. "What're your intentions with my daughter!?"

"T-Taking her to prom, sir!"

"And what are your intentions with that haircut!?"

Lúcio blinked, nonplused. "Sir?"

"That haircut isn't regulation, soldier!" he barked, gesturing at Lúcio's dreadlocks. "Who's that for? Bob Marley? He ain't hiring! He's dead!"

"DAD!"

Lúcio peeked past the elder to see Hana standing just behind him, Hana in her pink prom dress, hands on her hips, and a huffy look on her face.

"Will you stop that? Look what you're doing to him; he's about to pee himself!"

 _'That's not...entirely true...'_ Lúcio thought.

To his surprise, the old man began chuckling as he eased back into his rocking chair. "Aw, c'mon, kiddo. I'm old; I take my fun where I can get it."

Hana rolled her eyes as she walked over to Lúcio and took his hand in her. "Geez, you're shaking. Did he make you do push-ups?"

"Y-Yeah...?"

"Ugh, you're the worst, dad! You know they used to call him Soldier 76 in the army? Cuz that's how many years they say he'd take off your life."

"Aw, you _do_ listen to my war stories!" beamed 76, leaping up to hug Hana.

"Not like I have a choice when you blab about them every day--get off me!"

"You take good care of her, dreads." 76 said, pointing a firm finger at Lúcio. "She's all I've got in this world."

"Ugh, dad, you're so embarrassing! And did you _have_ to bring out the shotgun?"

"Oh, calm down. It wasn't loaded." From his pocket, 76 pulled out a .44 Magnum, Lúcio letting out a high-pitched shriek at its appearance. "This is, though."

"DAD! Ugh, let's go before he starts in on how that thing saved his life countless times."

"But it did! It was a cold morning in February..."

The story trailed off as Hana shoved Lúcio towards the car. And to think, he thought not staring at Hana in her dress would be the hardest part of the evening.


	5. Same Time Next Week

Junkrat whistled a tune to himself as he strolled up to Mei, cheeky grin on his face, flowers in hand. "G'day, Mei!" he greeted.

As ever she was silent. Cold. Indifferent.

"Geez, wot bee got in yer boxers?" Junkrat chortled, tossing her the flowers, which fell harmlessly to the ground. He snapped his fingers. Stupid; he should've gone for roses. Ladies liked roses, right? Better than those white flowers Ana suggested.

"So, uh...how're things? Good? Roadie's saying ah should stop swinging by ta see ya, sez it ain't good fer me, but wot'see know, eh?" No response.

"Oh, fergot ta mention! Fixed up Snowball fer ya! But the damn thing wouldn't stop shrieking once it saw ya. Reminds me'a how ah used to a be." He burst into manic giggles, resting his elbow against Mei. As always, cold.

"...Y'know, it's a roight shame we don't talk more. We'd have oodles of stories ta tell! You, famous climatologist and lady of the world. Me, a dashing, suave, sophisticated thief and wanted man. Oh, we'd go on, we would!"

He sighed and shook his head, thumping his peg leg. He glanced out towards the horizon, watching the sun as it began to dip.

"Well, gettin' late. Yer prob'ly real busy, so ah'll just...leave ya to it. Same time next week?" He chuckled again, but the manic energy behind it was lessened, almost absent.

Slowly, he knelt down and kissed the gravestone, giving it a gentle pat. Etched into the fine stone were the words 'Mei-Ling Zhou, a hero. A savior. A friend.' Carved on top, in Junkrat's scrawl, was 'The best sheila I ever knew'.

"Yeah." he smiled, not minding he was practically biting a hole in his cheek to stop the tears from flowing. Not minding that any second now Roadhog would probably come out and drag him back to the trailer, muttering about how 'you can't change the past'. Not minding that even now, he could still hear the echo of her scream cut short from the sniper's bullet piercing her heart. That that sound would no doubt haunt him for the rest of his life.

"Same time next week."


	6. Which One?

Mei's hand shook as she aimed her blaster at the Junkrat...or rather, Junkrats. The accursed Talon technology they'd been tracking was an android that had constructed a perfect duplicate. And true to form, it had made an indistinguishable copy; from his disheveled appearance, to his erratic manner of speech, even the way he moved was a carbon copy. Roadhog himself was impressed at the degree of the self-writing software...immediately after he screamed at the thought of two Junkrats existing in the world.

"Mei, darl! It's me!" pleaded one Junkrat. "Quit wavin' that thing around, liable to poke a fella's eye out!"

"Oi, shut it, ya half-baked fact simile!" the other shouted. "Ah'm tha genuine article, not you!"

"They even butcher the English language the same..." Roadhog huffed. 

Mei moved her blaster back and forth, doubting everything she ever knew. If the clone were to escape, they'd never find it. It could assume the identity of anyone, and enact its devious programming, plunging the world into chaos.

And she'd lose the love of her life. 

Like a bolt from the blue, inspiration struck. 

"Junkrats..." she addressed, still keeping a firm grip on her weapon. "I'm going to ask you a question. Something only the real Junkrat would know. Whoever gets it right, lives. Is that fair?"

Both junkers glared at each other before nodding. Taking a deep breath, Mei spoke.

"When," she asked, trying to ignore the way her face was heating up. "Was the first time we made love?"

"September 27th, 2076!"

"How tha fuck am ah supposed to know that!?"

A shard of ice speared through the second Junkrat's head, sparks arcing from the point of impact. The replicating android fell to the floor with a thud as the facade dropped, its chrome chassis blinking into existence as the hologram technology failed, along with the rest of its systems.

Junkrat stared agape at Mei as she holstered her blaster and put her hands on her hips. "How...how'd ya know it was me!? Ya know mah memory's crap!"

"Oh, it is." smiled Mei as Roadhog began tearing the android apart for parts. She leaned up on her toes to plant a kiss on Junkrat's cheek. "But you never forget the important things."

"And he has written proof." Roadhog grumbled.

"That _you_ notarized, ya tubby bastard!"


	7. Restful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was useless to try and argue with him, she knew. Once Junkrat got an idea in his head, there was little anyone (save Roadhog) could do to stop him. "Fine," she said, just barely suppressing her smile. "At least be gentle."

Mei clambered into bed with a sigh, the stress of the day having peeled away her last layer of fortitude. She'd barely had the energy to shower, and was more or less zombified as she entered the room.

"Rough day, darl?" drawled a familiar Australian voice.

"Yes." Mei replied in a weary mumble. "I'm so tired I don't even know how I got to bed." An arm snaked around her waist and pulled her close. She sensed the junker's intentions before she felt it press against her bottom. "Junkrat, nooo...I'm too tired..."

"Ain't no worry, love." Junkrat leaned in close to her ear, gently nipping the lobe. "Ah'll put ya back ta sleep'n no time at all."

It was useless to try and argue with him, she knew. Once Junkrat got an idea in his head, there was little anyone (save Roadhog) could do to stop him. "Fine," she said, just barely suppressing her smile. "At least be gentle."

"Ah'll be downroight goose hammer."

The flesh hand of her lover gripped the back of her panties and pulled them down to her knees, rough, calloused fingers snaking their way between her wet thighs and rubbing over her drooling slit. Mei moaned at the blonde's touch, easing her rump further into his hand and giving it a teasing little shake.

Cold metal dug into the meaty flesh of her breast and gave it a firm squeeze. Junkrat let out a throaty growl as he groped the brunette, dragging his tongue from her neck to the curve behind her ear and shuddering at the sweet, vanilla taste of her skin. "Goddamn, Snowflake. Iffin' ah didn't know better, ah'd say these babies grew a size since ah saw ya last."

Mei sighed and tried to speak through her moans. "You know th-that...mmmf...o- _oh_...that's impossible."

"Wassat? Couldn't hear ya through them lovely sounds, dearie."

Unable to form a witty retort, she slipped a pair of fingers to her mouth to stifle the sounds of arousal threatening to alert half the watchpoint. Junkrat's fingers wound round and round her cunt before slipping in, a loud gasp escaping her plump, rosy lips. "J-Jamie...you're being very mean..."

"Ah can be reeeeeeaaaaal nice, too, darl." As if to emphasize his point, he shimmied out of his ratty trousers, guiding the tip of his pulsing cock against Mei's lips. "Jus' say tha word, 'n I'll be happy ta oblige ya."

She was too tired; too tired to continue the witty repartee, too tired to pretend to be coy, too tired to deny how horny she was, how badly she wanted a nice, physical, release to this irksome day. Too tired to say anything else besides "Jamie, please fuck me."

"Ask and you'll receive, dearie!" He shoved himself into her; her wetness made it easy, taking him to the hilt almost immediately. She nearly broke the skin on her fingers as he pierced her, feeling a fire starting to grow in her belly.

"Yooooooooaaaauuuu...you promised to be gentle..." Mei wailed, breath husky and cheeks flushed.

"This _is_ gentle fer me, darl." He had a point. At least she wasn't biting the pillow this time. 

In and out, in and out, in a rhythmic, steady fashion. Each time his hips collided with hers, she let out a moan, the fire in her growing with every thrust. Held against him by his flesh arm and having her nipples teased by his robotic, she felt as comforted and safe as she did loved and amorous. 

"Junkrat..." she purred in that sexy voice the Junker knew all too well.

"Me too, sweet cheeks."

She turned her head to him, licking her lips in lust. "Kiss me." 

He needed no further provocation, clamping his lips over hers. She relaxed into it, letting Junkrat's eager tongue push past hers and coil inside her mouth. He recognized the signs straightaway; her rapid breaths, her curling toes, the clenching of her thighs.

"Jamie," she swooned. "I'm--!" The last word didn't even manage to leave her mouth, dissolving into a gurgling, pleasured moan as she arched her back and came. Jamie's own, ahem, explosive orgasm came seconds after, turning her fire into an inferno. 

With a blissful sigh and a kiss on the cheek, she settled into Junkrat's arms, his cock still twitching inside her. Junkrat returned the kiss with his own to her forehead, sleep overtaking him soon after, the two falling into smiling, satisfied rest.


End file.
